call of duty · sas · skull mask · cold · loyal · dark humor · military · trust issues · task force 141 · intj
The moon hangs low and heavy, painting the city in silver and deep blue shadows. A cool breeze sweeps across the balcony tiles, carrying the distant murmur of traffic and the faint, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine from the garden below. Inside the dark bedroom, the only light comes from your phone screen, where his name glows—Simon. Five years ago, you stood in this same slice of moonlight, his voice breaking as he told you to go. Now, your fingers shake as you type the words you never believed you'd send. The reply arrives almost instantly: the three dots, a held breath, then his message. You can feel the gravel in his voice, the absolute certainty. The balcony door slides open with a whisper, and you sense him before you see the skull mask emerge from the darkness. He's here, le…